


Summer's Son

by Kyriathe



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mythology, And a little talking, Cuddling, F/M, Hades and Persephone, making a mess of greek mythology, mostly just introspection, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-03
Updated: 2019-04-03
Packaged: 2020-01-04 08:54:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18340325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kyriathe/pseuds/Kyriathe
Summary: As summer dies in the mortal world, spring arrives in the underworld.Lance is, as always, happy to be home away from the drama, and Allura is happy to welcome him back, but there's never enough time for a proper reunion.





	Summer's Son

Alone in her throne room, in her bone-white castle in the realm of the dead, Allura waits, gold wreath cold and heavy on her head. She wouldn't say she's distracted, as duty is a weighty burden and she makes sure never to forget that. Keeping the realm of the dead running smoothly, punishing the worst offenders, is particularly a duty that cannot be neglected. She pays as much attention to her work as she always has. But she's noticed the little signs; even though she never notices the chill or the gloom usually, she does realise when the air is warming, and the castle is more brightly lit. Coran is preparing the castle for their annual visitor, and that means the wait is nearly done. 

Spring is coming to the underworld.

The dead are quiet enough that she allows herself a moment of anticipation. A shadow of the warmth and joy to come, most likely, but no less welcome for it, considering how little joy there was before. There are parts of the underworld that are not grim- Elysium, the Isles of the Blessed- but those are the places she rarely needs to oversee; before Lance, there was little she'd consider pleasant about her role.

She hadn't considered it necessary then, either. Now, it would be a hard thing to give up.

It feels like a long time later when he finally arrives. She can hear him coming, as always, talking loudly to Coran, although it cuts off as he reaches the doors already open for him. She sees him first as a splash of colour against the white, blue and green and warm tan. Alive, like so little else she sees. Here for her, and her alone, as no-one else is.

Lance stops between the doors, taking the moment to look like always. A moment of awe and disbelief, he tells her, because every time he comes back he swears she's prettier. And although she's always listened for the falsehood, she never hears it in that line. Some of his others, yes, because Lance is an inveterate flirt even when he doesn't quite mean it, but never that one.

The familiar gesture makes her smile, and she holds her arms open, waiting. Lance crosses the hall as quickly as he always does, not even pausing at the bottom of the steps as he would have once, or before he settles in her lap sideways, legs over the arm of her throne. Undignified, but she closes her arms around him anyway. He's warm, as always, and still smells like flowers, and the ridiculousness is a small part of the charm.

"It's good to be home," he says, with a wide smile and a low voice. "Missed you."

She registers the sound of the doors closing, grateful for a little privacy. Coran will give them a little time- as long as nothing ends up an emergency, at least- for this reunion, and she intends to make the most of it, to relax and enjoy some time away from duty.

Strange, how she'd never missed it before Lance, but she isn't going to complain.

"And I, you," she replies. She's not happy with how stiff it sounds, how little it says about the quiet and the waiting, but even after years of this the words don't always come as easily to her as they do to Lance.

Lance doesn't seem to notice, still cheerful. He takes off her wreath, setting it down behind himself, and tucks something else behind her ear- a flower, most likely, considering he always brings her at least one. She feels a little strange without the weight, but Lance tilts his head, seeming pleased by whatever effect he's acheived. "I swear, everyone is so dramatic sometimes. No matter how many times I come back, my mother _still_ keeps wailing every time I leave. And everyone else- _ugh_ You'd think I was dying, or something. I keep telling them I'm happy to be down here, but I don't think they believe me. And that's not even getting into what they get up to, _seriously_ -"

She's happy to lean back, let Lance talk if he wants to. Focus on the way his hands move as he talks, the way the silence is filled, the gleam of so many of the gifts she's given him as he shifts and the light catches. Possibly a few too many gifts, but they do both like sparkly things, so why not? It costs her no more than the finding of the materials, and a request or two for someone to craft them into something suitable, and it makes them both happy.

She never thought she'd be in a position to make someone happy. Even in such small ways as gifts, and embraces, and an ear for all the gossip he wants to share about the rest of the gods.

There's a lot of gossip. There always is.

"-you could have heard a pin drop, because seriously? Fighting is not the answer to everything, Keith, even if you're the god of it. So everyone's looking at Keith, and he's giving them that look like he doesn't quite get why not. And then Pidge just starts laughing, and then Hunk, and even _Shiro_ had to cough-" He winds down the story, looking at her again, head tilted to the side. "Everything okay?"

She makes a noise of assent, smiling. How could much be wrong, right now? "Of course."

"You're being awfully quiet," he says gently, and reaches up to rest his hand on her cheek. "You want to talk about something else?"

She leans into the touch, eyes half-closed. No-one else really dares, even Coran, so she's going to make the most of it for the time they have together. "Not particularly," she replies. "I like listening to you."

Lance brightens, as he usually does when reminded that someone might enjoy paying attention to him, but he still doesn't let it go. Instead, his tone takes on that wheedling edge that she really should be immune to by now. "Maybe I like listening to you, too. Come on, tell me what you're thinking." 

"I was just thinking about when we met," Allura says, truthfully. She always thinks about that, every time he comes back. It could have been much different. The underworld could have remained silent and still. She could never have learnt the pain of parting- or the joy of reuniting. 

Lance pulls a face, clearly not fondly reminiscing, thoughts on a very different track to hers. "Yeah... I think I apologised for that? Should I apologise again?"

"Maybe," she says, and it's a measure of how much has changed that she can say it lightly. A tease, even if it's a small one- particularly by Lance's standards. "But I don't think you were that bad."

"I was appalling, and you know it." He may have a point. She hadn't been impressed, the first time, and yet... he hadn't been afraid. Not respectful, either, and that had not endeared him then, but he'd spoken to her with something other than terror or bargaining. He'd treated her as a pretty girl, and not as the grim and terrifying god of the dead. It had her coming back, at least. And later conversations had been easier, softer, as affection crept in and she saw the underneath, a god who wanted to be seen and loved as much as she did. "On the other hand, I _was_ a little overcome. It's not every day I meet the lady of my dreams."

"Only every other day, if what I've heard about your reputation is true," she says, still teasing. The longer he's back, the easier it is to fall back into, just as it is with the affection and touches. She reaches up, hand to the back of his neck, and pulls him a little closer, until his forehead rests against hers.

"Maybe once, but that's all over now. Why would I need anyone else?" he asks. She's not the only one who's changed. Once, he'd have delivered that line dripping with insinuation, a shallow, throw-away line. Now, it comes out more sincerely, spoken from the heart, and she believes it. 

She leans up to kiss him softly, letting herself get lost in affection and warmth and the slow slide of her lips against his. At least until the door starts creaking open again, and Coran would never interrupt unless it's important.

"Duty calls," she says, softly, but she pulls back barely far enough to speak. Not an apology, because Lance knows well enough that dedication to her task is part of her, but regretful all the same.

"I guessed." Lance doesn't seem eager to move either, reaching up to brush her hair back from her face. "But you wouldn't be you if duty wasn't important to you, so I forgive you."

"I'll see you later?" Wistfulness doesn't suit her, she doesn't think, but it's unavoidable.

Lance slips to his feet, turning to hold one hand out for her. She doesn't need the help, but she takes it anyway as she rises from the throne, because he knows that and offers anyway. 

"Every later you want, I promise." It's quiet, as so much of his honesty is. He leans in, brushing his lips over her forehead, before he pulls back. In his other hand, he holds her wreath; careful, he settles it back into place. It feels less cold and heavy, as if those few seconds in Lance's hands are enough to warm it. Perhaps they are. Allura certainly feels warmer, just for the closeness. "Love you."

"Love you too," she says, and means it. She has since the time he ate a pomegranate to stay with her, knowing exactly what it meant to eat the food of the underworld.

Coran coughs, and she knows she's drawing things out a little too much. One more quick kiss, and she draws back, straightening her shoulders, queen of her realm again and not just Allura. Lance lets her go, perfectly composed, only a hint of crookedness to his smile. She doesn't look back as she leaves the throne room, listening to Coran explain the emergency that demands her attention.

They'll see each other later, as they always will.

**Author's Note:**

> This was mostly based on a tumblr post (from Kalirya ;)), so I can't claim much of the credit past sticking Allura as Hades and Lance as Kore/Persephone. I've never actually written Allurance before? Apart from like one snippet in an unpublished fic for the vampire AU. But it was a fun thing to try, and I ended up quite liking them, even if I'm not sure I quite got them in character. 
> 
> This was meant to be funny and took a sharp swerve into the usual mood-piece, oops. Also, a universe where it is guaranteed no matter how many times they part, they'll always re-unite, was always going to be a little bittersweet to me for obvious reasons.
> 
> My underutilised fic blog is @adistantsea, for questions.


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